Aliens and Sociopaths: Dulcis Domus
by LittlePageAndBird
Summary: The newly found laughter, lisped words and wobbly steps of their twins bring joy into the lives of the Doctor and River. But with Manhattan looming overhead, how will husband and wife cope with their growing children amidst their grief once it descends? Sequel to Aliens and Sociopaths: Tempus Vivere - there's a catch-up summary in the first chapter for those who haven't read it.
1. The Best Medicine

_Hello again! _

_So here it is, the sequel to **Aliens and Sociopaths: Tempus Vivere **(and **The Calm Before the Storm**, the prequel to Tempus Vivere.) For those who haven't read it / have had an encounter with the Silence, here's a summary:_

River goes to Amy and Rory upon discovering she's pregnant with the Doctor's child. (For the Ponds it's just after the Power of Three; River has just become a Professor.) Of course, the Doctor (11th) finds out, and seeing River's fears about impending parenthood makes a decision to stay with her at the Pond residence during the pregnancy. The pair discover they're having twins and have a boy, Elliott, and a girl, Freya. Meanwhile across time, Violet Holmes, a girl who will come to be very important in the lives of the Songs, is born to loving father Arthur and colder-than-ice mother Edna.

_This story, really consisting of one-shots with at times quite large time jumps (we'll let you know their ages when that happens to prevent confusion from timey-wimeyness), follows the Doctor and River as they raise the twins with the help of Amy and Rory, and Violet's parallel childhood._

_**Disclaimer: **Doctor Who doesn't belong to us. Damn it._ _In addition, yes, there are characters from Sherlock mentioned here, but the references are so few and far between and the character associated with them, Violet, is an OC; therefore we haven't classed this as a Crossover because it isn't really one yet. The next one, however, will be. Yes, there is a next one. We can't stop._

_Onwards!_

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><p>After ten weeks, both of them were exhausted.<p>

They bickered over ridiculous things- just evenings ago, a dispute over which onesie to dress Freya in for bed had grown so intense that Amy and Rory had had to step in and separate them.

Each time they'd make up, of course- the Doctor would be the one to initiate the reconciliation, River would be the one to cry and need reassuring that she wasn't going to be rendered a single parent. He'd remind her that she'd murdered him on their first date and he'd still married her; they could very probably survive an argument over a two-month-old's bedtime ensemble.

Nevertheless, no sooner had they made up that something stupidly trivial drew them into another row. That particular morning it was the unknown location of the baby monitor, and it could easily have endured for hours.

They stood over the bassinet, too tired to consider the impact that their increasingly loud and angry voices might have on their babies dozing in it.

"You had it last."

"What? No I didn't. It was on the coffee table in the living room last night."

"So you were the last person to see it."

"Well, I suppose I was, but I didn't move it. Did you not move it to the kitchen when you were having breakfast?"

"I've told you, I checked the kitchen! And I didn't move it there anyway, I never touched it."

"Well, I've checked every room upstairs."

"Why would you do that? It's obviously not upstairs, Doctor- _they're_ upstairs. There's no reason to bring it up here."

"Then where else can it be?"

"I don't know! Did you take it into the Tardis?"

"I just told you I didn't move it! I'd remember moving it!" he protested.

"_I'd_ remember moving it!" she retaliated, voice a near-shriek due to sleep deprivation severely restricting her patience.

He scoffed before he could stop himself, and felt his hearts fall into his shoes when River's eyes narrowed. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" She didn't give him time to answer, taking a menacing step closer to him so their faces almost met across the bassinet. "Well, I'm _sorry_ that I'm _tired_, Doctor! I have just given birth to two whole people and haven't had a decent night's sleep for over two months, _excuse me_ if I'm not at my best!"

He threw his hands up, waving them frantically in characteristic exasperation. "I didn't even _say_ anything!"

"Don't shout at me!"

"I'm not shouting at you!"

"Yes you are!" she cried. He sighed, and she scowled bitterly. "Oh, shut up!"

His hands were like propellers. "I- I didn't-!"

A little sudden burst of sound beneath them stopped their quarrelling in an instant. Their heads whipped towards the bassinet where Freya was squirming next to her brother, gazing up at her parents with glinting jade eyes and giggling hysterically.

River and the Doctor watched her in shock, heads still ringing from overtiredness and bickering which apparently their child found incredibly amusing. And just like that the Doctor forgot what it was they'd been shouting over; in fact, he forgot they'd been shouting at all. He forgot all the wars and the pain and misery that built up the burden of a thousand year-long life, and marvelled in the wonderful realisation that even now he was still seeing such magical firsts as this.

When he glanced up, he met River's eyes and saw them huge with surprise, swimming with tears. The heat of the argument drained away with the sound of their daughter's laughter and he saw that unadulterated joy written across her face like starlight across the sky, the very same thing he felt.

That was why it didn't matter what they went through, what they found petty differences over. Some past arguments of theirs were so terrible that it made the ones they had now seem almost laughable; furniture had been smashed, threats had been made and carried out at times, declarations of hate had been screamed mixed with various imaginative insults. But passion did that; for running, for the stars, for life and for each other, something they both shared- a passion deep enough to rip the entire Universe apart. They had always found pleasure in the same things; she was more like him than anyone he had ever known, and he'd loved her for it long before she'd become a mother. Now they shared the love for their children; it bound them together past everything and was powerful enough to cast all else into oblivion.

Freya was still laughing when they looked back down; Elliott was watching her in fascination, and it only took a moment for him to join in with the private joke they were sharing.

The laughter was infectious; it got the Doctor first and soon enough the chime of childish giggles was enough to spread to his wife until they were losing minutes in hysterics.

River pressed her pyjama sleeves to her cheeks, brushing away the tears of laughter and sentiment when the energy that being happy consumed made her light-headed.

She crept around to the Doctor's side of the bassinet, nudging at his side until his arms slipped around her and resting her tired head on his shoulder. "Oh, that's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard," she whispered over the giggles of the twins, who apparently were finding each other's faces hilarious.

The Doctor tangled his fingers in her un-brushed hair, smoothing it down tenderly. "The first time they laugh and it's at us; sounds about right."

"I think Freya was laughing at your hands."

"My hands?" he echoed, wounded as he stuck one out to examine it for imperfections.

"You were doing that thing you always do, flapping them all over the place. To be fair to her, it is rather funny; I struggle to keep a straight face when we argue."

"Well. I suppose I can live with that." He wiggled his fingers over the bassinet, making the twins squeal gleefully. "Look at them; seeing delight in the most ordinary of things. That's the way everyone should be."

"They're brand new. There's no such thing as ordinary to them yet." She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, feeling that familiar comfort that she could only seem to find of late in his arms.

He sighed softly against her hair. "That must be magical."

The creak of the bedroom door roused them from the most tranquil few consecutive minutes they'd found in weeks. "I could hear them from downstairs!" Rory whispered, creeping in to see the twins. "Have we finally realised what a funny face your dad has?"

"Hey!" Any further retaliation from the Doctor came to an abrupt halt as his eyes flitted to Rory's hand. "Where did you get that?" he yelped, seeing the baby monitor that he was clutching.

"Oh, it ran out of batteries. I took it in the garage to see if I could find some spare. Why?" he asked warily, seeing their faces.

The Doctor laughed tiredly, resting his nose against River's temple. "No reason."

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><p><em>Hope you enjoyed it! LP&amp;B x<em>


	2. A Spot of Kitchen Waltzing

_Domestic! Fluffy, fluffy fluff. Enjoy it while it lasts, because, ooh, it's not going to..._

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><p>The silence – save his wife's snoring, which he would <em>never<em> tell her about - was shattered at two minutes past two in the morning, and the Doctor couldn't have cared less. He lay there for a brief moment, a tiny smile flitting across his face as he listened to the wails coming from next door and determined which of his children it was as he always could.

River stirred next to him, groaning as the crescendo roused her from sleep. "Is that both of them?" she murmured drowsily, not lifting her head off the pillow.

"Just Elliott," he whispered, smoothing her wild curls.

River's mouth twitched with a smile. "That's unusual. Frey's the noisy one."

"I know. That's because she takes after you."

She swatted at him half-heartedly. "Watch it."

He chuckled, stooping to kiss her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Pulling on his dressing gown on over his pyjamas – presents from Amy, along with several quips about being _so_ domestic - he tiptoed into the nursery.

Elliott's crying trailed into disconsolate snuffles within moments of being scooped up into his father's arms, but his glistening hazel eyes gave his misery away.

"I know, I know," he whispered as he crept downstairs with his son. Preparing the milk with one hand had become an almost instinctive procedure, and within minutes Elliott had been successfully quietened.

"There we are," the Doctor soothed, as was tradition on these morning shifts. "Is that better?" Rising to his feet, he propped the baby against his chest and came to stand at the little kitchen window through which the starlight was filtering.

"That's the moon," he replied to Elliott's coo, gazing up at the night sky wistfully. "Well, Earth's moon. Bit boring, if you ask me." He smiled at his son's delighted gurgle. "You think that's cool? Wait until you see the rest of what's out there; the Universe is full of things you wouldn't believe. Beautiful things," he whispered, kissing the top of Elliott's head. "But I'll let you in on the secret of life, Mr Song: it isn't worth anything at all if you have no-one to share it with. So make lots of friends when you grow up, ok? Oh, there's your sister up," he remarked at the swelling of a very familiar noise above his head.

River was already in the nursery when he took Elliott upstairs, cradling a screaming Freya and looking so fraught that once he had laid their son in his cot he held his arms out to her.

"Here, I'll take her. Go back to bed."

She sighed wearily. "You always offer, and I always let you. You can't do everything."

"Honey, I don't need sleep like you do." He cradled her face gently in his palm, seeing the ashen tint along her cheeks, the creases under her eyes. "You're exhausted."

She looked close to tears. "I'm supposed to be; it's called motherhood."

"Well, there's something called marriage too which means I'm allowed to insist on looking after my wife when she needs it." He smiled at her through the darkness, plucking Freya from her arms when she didn't protest.

When his wife shuffled back into the spare room, he rocked their daughter until her cries softened; she apparently wanted nothing but a bit of attention, provoking whispered comparisons to her mother. Managing to lull her back to rest, he laid Freya back in her cot and allowed himself the privilege of watching his children lost in the peaceful throes of sleep. The starlight caught the crystal mobile above the crib and splayed out across the far wall, unfamiliar dancing shapes captivating his interest.

The creak of the stairs roused him from watching the spectral display; creeping into the hallway to investigate and seeing that the bed in the spare room was empty, he came to his own conclusions and padded downstairs.

River was curled up at the dining table as he knew she would be, clutching a cup so tightly in her hands it was a wonder it didn't shatter.

"Can't get back to sleep?" he asked softly, sliding into the chair opposite her.

"I'm not even going to try," she grumbled, never taking the mug of thick black coffee away from her lips.

The Doctor nodded to it timidly. "Are you supposed to be drinking that? Just, with you, uh, breastfeeding, I'm not sure it's-"

"Shut up, Doctor." Her deadpan snap made him press his lips together, giving her an apologetic look that was soon mirrored in her own features. "This is my only cup today; you're allowed a cup. I checked."

"Ok."

"I need something to keep me up."

"I know-"

"I haven't been able to sleep for days. I feel as if I'm permanently sleepwalking. I have to have something to stop me passing out from exhaustion."

"Well, as long as it helps you."

"It does."

"Good."

River sighed, hooded eyes never leaving the table in a constant downcast expression. She looked so utterly forlorn that he had to grip the sides of his chair to physically restrain himself from going over there and wrapping her up in a hug.

"Remember when we used to talk about constellations and faraway planets?" she muttered wistfully, a smile caught between nostalgia and bitterness flitting across her face. "You'd talk to me for hours on end about the stars when I came to visit. Look what you're reduced to now: caffeinated breast milk."

"I don't mind what I'm talking about. As long as I'm talking with you," he smiled.

River scoffed, looking away to- unsuccessfully- attempt to hide the smile growing across her face. "I feel sick enough without your sentimentality, thank you."

"River," he prompted gently, seeing the tremor in her bottom lip. "Talk to me."

Meeting his gaze was apparently too much for her to keep whatever she wasn't saying to herself. "I just feel miserable," she whispered, eyes swimming with thick tears. She pushed her mug away to drag her fingernails to her mouth, gnawing on them in an attempt to distract herself from the sobs rising in the back of her throat. "This is so difficult… I feel like I shouldn't be doing it when I'm this _bad_ at it."

He shook his head slowly, her words leaving little punctures in his hearts. "River, River…" Slipping out of his chair, he came to rest on his knees beside her when the distance became too much to bear.

"You're not proposing, are you?" she asked flatly, eyeing him with suspicion.

The Doctor smiled, lifting her hand to cradle it between his. "I would, but I know my River Song has higher standards than being proposed to in her parents' kitchen." He pressed a kiss to each of her knuckles, brushing the traces of salty drops that fell onto them. "I've told you what an amazing mother you are every single day since the twins were born."

She sighed, reclining back heavily against her chair. "I know you have."

"Yet you still won't believe me…"

River smiled weakly, lifting her hand out of the Doctor's to brush his floppy hair out of his eyes. "But I listen."

"Well, that's something. But I'd like to remind you that you made the two little people upstairs. Now they're beautiful, and I know they didn't get that from me."

She gasped, biting back a weak grin. "Now, sweetie; you're very pretty. God, it's almost three," she remarked with a glance at the kitchen clock. "We used to stay out dancing this late."

"What do you mean, used to?" He grinned, climbing to his feet and pulling her with him by her hand. "We're not past it yet, Mrs Doctor. May I escort you to the dance floor?"

He leaned across the bench to flick Rory's little radio on, turning it up until the boom of pianos and violins filled their ears.

"Doctor, you'll wake the babies!" River cried.

"I won't; they love classical music. In fact, it helps them sleep. It helps you sleep, too." He grinned, pulling her into a lazy dance and swaying them from side to side. "You've never woken up once in all the times I've played it to them in the afternoons." He was surprisingly graceful as he waltzed her across the kitchen floor, grinning when she gave in and brought her hand to rest on his shoulder. "It must be a Song thing."

He twirled River expertly, making her dressing gown billow out around her. Catching her as he had a thousand times before, he was rewarded with that beautiful loving smile of hers that exorcised all traces of despondency from her features. His lopsided grin ensured that for the first time in months, he heard his wife's laugh.

His joy was short-lived when a silhouette, almost trembling with rage, appeared in the doorway. "But apparently not a Pond thing…"

Amy planted her hands on her hips, sleep-glazed eyes narrowed. "_What_ do you two think you're doing?"

"Dancing!" the Doctor grinned bashfully, skipping a circle around her with River to prove his point.

He almost heard his friend's teeth grit over the music, keeping her eyes fixed on him because she knew better than to direct her anger at her already overemotional daughter. "I have to get up for work in _three hours_, Doctor!"

"Haven't you heard of earplugs, Pond?"

"I was wearing earplugs! Do you know how _loud_ that stupid music is?!"

"Sorry, I'd love to help but I just can't hear you!" The Doctor laughed, twirling his wife away from her furious mother.

The only weapon within Amy's reach was the fruit bowl, and she used it to her full advantage; within seconds they were being pelted with apple and orange and grape bullets, only serving to heighten River's rediscovered delight.

The Doctor pulled his wife against him, shielding her from the flurry of fruit. They could barely hear Amy over their peals of hysterical laughter.

"Turn it off! I swear, I'll kill you both with my bare hands! It's not funny! It's THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING! River! Doctor! OI! Are you listening to me?!"

River had to clamp her hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to stop snorts of laughter, shoulders shaking with the effort in the Doctor's hold. His innocent cry of, "We were just doing a spot of kitchen waltzing!" didn't help matters; River guffawed, while Amy glared at him so intensely he thought her eyes alone could burn holes in his pyjamas.

"You two are ridiculous!" Amy grunted, marching past them to unplug the radio with such force that it clattered to the floor. "You're under my roof, and I don't care how old you are, if this happens again you're- you're _grounded_! Understand?"

River and the Doctor put on hilariously solemn expressions, nodding meekly in sync at Amy as she stormed out of the kitchen.

"Someone's not a morning person," the Doctor whispered.

"_Shut up_!"

They guffawed at Amy's shriek, burying their heads in each other's shoulders to conceal their giggles.

When Amy had stomped back upstairs, when the laughter had died down and only silence swirled around them once again, he found himself not wanting to let go of her. Lingering on her pyjamas was a concoction of scents, baby powder and sweet milk and fresh laundry, a new beautiful sort of smell that reminded him of comfort and wonderful ordinary things. Cosy nights in their warm little blue house, watching the wintry sleet thundering down outside as their children slept peacefully on their chests.

It seemed as if his wife was going that way too; her body grew slightly heavier in his arms, her head lolling on his shoulder so that he soon felt her nose snuggle into his neck, fitting there like a puzzle piece.

He considered remaining here this way for the rest of time. Whenever he was close to her now that wonderful euphoric feeling of overpowering affection took over him, and again it pushed those rare words out of his mouth.

It was whispered into her soft blue pyjamas, hushed as if only ever wanting her to hear it- their secret kept from the rest of the Cosmos. "I love you, River."

He felt a little bubble of nerves, irrationally; though to be fair it was the first time he'd uttered it without being slightly high from second-hand gas and air. But anything other than contentment was dispelled with the little grateful hum that came from her. Making her happy had sort of become his life's work.

She pulled back just enough to plant a kiss to his cheek, resting her nose there. "You know, I never thought I'd hear anyone tell me that," she whispered. "Being a born and bred psycho and everything…"

He chuckled lightly against her ear. "I'm not anyone. And I'm kind of into psychos."


	3. It Always Rains in May

_**Happy Who Year everyone! **_

**The title of this chapter is a reference to the beginning of Part I of the _Aliens and Sociopaths_ series. River mentions the "pink cocktails" and "Sebastian" in this chapter… to read that particular story, check out the prequel, _The Calm before the Storm_. **

**River prepares for her first date with the Doctor since their twins were born, and gets very positive results when he comes to pick her up... ****Enjoy! x**

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><p>"Are you <em>sure<em> you'll be ok looking after them tonight?"

Amy laughed at her daughter as she attempted uselessly to flatten her hair in the living room mirror, bouncing Elliott in her arms. "We'll be fine."

River clipped her earrings on, smoothing her dress for the umpteenth time. "Remember, they'll need a bottle before bedtime, and you need to give them a cuddle before you put them in their cots or they'll just cry and cry-"

"River, you wrote it down step-by-step this morning and pinned it to the noticeboard in the kitchen."

River smiled apologetically, forehead creasing with concern when Elliott cooed at her as if afraid he sensed she was abandoning him. "Sorry. I can't help worrying."

"I know. It's a big step; you've never left them before."

"Well- that's not strictly true, because…"

"Putting the bins out doesn't count." Amy smiled, pulling Elliott back gently when he reached up to clutch at his mother's curls. "Now, don't ruin Mummy's hair! It took her three hours!"

"Oh, I don't mind. Come here, sweetie." She lifted Elliott from his grandmother's arms, peppering kisses to his rosy cheeks. "Hello, my beautiful boy."

"Mummy's going on a hot space date!" Amy whispered, mirth glittering in her eyes.

River grimaced. "Mummy doesn't do hot since she became Mummy, I'm afraid."

Amy scoffed. "Come on! Have you seen you? And have you met your _husband_? Trust me; you've got nothing to be nervous about."

River jiggled her son in her arms, puffing out a sigh. "I know. It's just that this'll be our first date, since… our last date," she told her mother, raising her eyebrows pointedly with an emphatic nod to Elliott.

"Oh. _Oh_." Mother and daughter exchanged smirks that would have made their husbands grumble and blush. "Well – you deserve this; both of you. I mean, cooped up in here for a year can't have worked wonders," Amy pointed out, the last of her words being drowned out by the shriek of the doorbell. "Ah. On time; there's a first."

River stayed rooted to the spot for so long that it rang another three times before Amy nudged her. "Don't keep him waiting!"

"Right…" She checked herself in the mirror, smoothing invisible creases out of her dress.

"You look gorgeous. Go and get him."

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><p>"Yowzah," the Doctor sighed before she'd even finished opening the door. River enjoyed the few moments it took him to regain his concentration as his eyes trailed over her dress before he cleared his throat. "I mean. Sorry. Hello."<p>

River had to laugh, pulling him over the threshold by his hands. "Hello, sweetie."

His smile was dazed. "Hello."

"How many times are you planning on saying that? Just, you know, we have a date to go on and everything…" She giggled at his blush, cradling his warm cheek in her hand tenderly. "Elliott and Freya are settled for the night, but they're still awake. We need to go and say goodnight to them before we…"

River trailed off as his finger drifted up lazily to brush a perfect curl from her cheek. "Are you listening to me?" she asked teasingly.

"Hmm?" He ran his thumb under one of her earrings, letting the diamonds slide over the pad. She heard them jingle as he let them go, and then his hand was cradling the back of her neck, keeping them so close together that she could barely focus on him.

She decided to test him. "Too preoccupied by my hotness?"

"Hmm…" The Doctor drew his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment to moisten it, eyes returning from their roam and meeting with hers.

"I'll take that as a yes?"

He blinked as if his eyes were too big for his sockets. "Take what as a yes?"

River giggled. "Never mind, sweetie. What have you got in store for me tonight, then?"

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed. "Um… you know. Spacey… timey… dinner! Dinner, we have dinner reservations. Or we will have."

"Oh! Where?"

"The anti-grav restaurant on Midnight, in the Leisure Palace," he grinned. "The view is spectacular, and so is the food."

"Midnight's Leisure Palace?" she echoed. "You mean the Leisure Palace with the free pink cocktails?"

"The very same."

"And… Sebastian?"

He scowled at her devilish grin. "Yes…"

The soft patter of rain behind him made River pull him further into the hallway, clicking the little blue front door shut. "It always rains in May."

They exchanged secret smiles, recognition in his shining hazel eyes. They'd certainly come a long way since that night. "New perfume?" he asked softly, being now close enough for the tangy scent to hit him.

She chuckled. "Yes. You have a good nose."

"I know." He threw her a smile before dipping his head, pressing that good nose of his against her neck and taking a deep breath. His voice was muffled by her skin. "It smells like peaches. I love peaches."

"I know."

She felt his lips press softly against her neck, making breath leave her unexpectedly as her pulse fluttered beneath his kiss. She hadn't felt this in a long time; it was slightly risky the many memories of many nights it roused, given that they were standing in the middle of her parents' house. But she was past caring as his lips traced a path up to her jaw with a feathery lightness that he knew sent shivers through her.

He pulled away too soon, leaving an odd blend of relief and terrible frustration curdling in her lower stomach. "They have a ballroom in the middle of the restaurant," he told her with that untiring beam of a smile, bouncing on his toes so that watching him made her slightly dizzy. "After dessert, they insist that everyone gets up for a dance."

"It sounds perfect." She cocked an eyebrow accusingly. "Especially for the Universe's biggest exhibitionist…"

"And her husband," he finished with a smirk.

She gasped, feigning offence. "Are you saying I'm a show-off?"

"Oh, absolutely."

Their little attempt at small-talk to focus on anything except how close they were to each other- something he excelled in from the early days- came to a shuddering halt. Her mouth hung slightly open in the hope that words could slip out of it and stave off the want, but comprehensible thoughts escaped her as she watched his eyes drop to them and flicker as if lost in a daydream.

He half-smiled, the best either of them could manage to dispel the fizzing silence, and leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose as a consolation. But their lips caught, perhaps because she tilted her head up almost unconsciously, and he pulled back in surprise as if he'd been electrocuted. Feeling the need both to reassure him that for once his clumsiness had been a godsend and to settle the ache she felt, her hands gripped his shoulders to pull his lips back to hers.

She could barely remember the last time they had kissed like this, with all that had happened since. He would kiss her, briefly when her parents' backs were turned, as part of the goodnight routine that had developed after doing the same to Elliott and Freya, when she had those moments of utter baby-brain induced uselessness that he found adorable, and most commonly of late in reassurance. But _this_, this was reminiscent of nights before pregnancy and parenthood, all roaming hands and bumping noses and breaking away for the briefest of moments to find gasps of air.

They pulled away from each other reluctantly after a good minute, seeming to remember where they were. His hands had pressed themselves to the small of her back and refused to leave, and in that moment when they were still close enough to feel each other's laboured breath on their skin it suddenly became shockingly apparent that it had been fourteen months.

"So…" He made a half-hearted attempt to smooth his hair down where her fingers had dragged through it and tilted his head towards the front door. "Ah, shall we?"

"We need to say bye to the kids first," she reminded him.

"The kids! Yes. The kids…" She had to smile at his inability to barely focus on anything, seeming a little shaken by the kiss. He clasped his hands together to make space between them. "Um, so, where are they?"

River led him through to the living room, leaving the smudge of lipstick for the sheer amusement of witnessing his furious blush when Amy pointed it out. It took Rory reminding them scathingly of the thinness of the walls and the exact distance from the hallway to the living room for him to turn positively vermillion.


	4. Dusk on Kaleida

As the Doctor and River's first date since the birth of their son and daughter draws to a close, they ponder the new domesticity in their life. Enjoy! x

"Voila!" the Doctor exclaimed, gesturing flamboyantly at the gorgeous view that greeted them on the other side of the Tardis doors. It could have been painted; they were parked at the top of a grassy hill, miles of flower-peppered meadows stretching out beneath them until they met a sky emblazoned with glittering stars.

"Sweetie," River gasped. "I told you, dinner was enough!"

"Don't be silly. Anyone can go to dinner; anyone _can't_ go to a beautiful uninhabited planet halfway across the Cosmos." He offered her his hand, walking them over to the edge of the hill where they both sunk into the deep grass. "These are the Kaleida Meadows."

"Oh, really?" she asked, seeming a little vacant as those emerald eyes drifted across the view before them. "I've heard of them before."

The Doctor pulled the little wicker basket he'd brought along in front of them with a grin. "See, we didn't have dessert at the restaurant because… I thought we could have it here." He pulled two perfect slices of chocolate cake on china plates from the basket.

River raised an eyebrow. "How did you fit those in there? No, let me guess. Bigger on the inside?" she asked with a wry smile. He handed her a spoon with a knowing smile. "Oh god, this isn't going to help the baby weight."

"Cake helps everything."

"Easy for you to say, skinny," she remarked.

River ate her cake in silence, not responding to his occasional pointless rambles; having typically eaten his in fewer than three bites he watched his wife, seeing the way her eyes would flicker up momentarily, how she would bite her lip and the fingers of her free hand would occasionally drift to her jacket pocket where he knew her mobile was buried.

There was a little too much haste in the way she cleared the plates away when she was finished, stuffing them haphazardly into the basket before twirling her thumbs restlessly.

"We can go back, if you want to."

His soft words drew her gaze towards him, and he saw the way her eyes ignited for a moment before she attempted to disguise it. "No, I… it's fine."

He gave her a gentle smile, knowing exactly what, or rather who, was going through her head. "They'll be ok, you know."

"I know," she answered quickly, sighing to herself. "Is it supposed to be this difficult? I'm just…"

"You're just a new mum," he reminded her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder and burying his nose in her corkscrew curls. "It's normal to feel like this. But we did wait five months, and you agreed to this-"

"I know I did. Thank you, for all of this, I've loved it." She tilted her chin up to press her nose against his. "I didn't have you down as romantic."

He pulled away from her with a wounded frown. "What do you mean? I'm romantic _all_ the time!"

"I'll let you keep thinking that, sweetie." She dug her fingernails into her palms. "I just want to be there for them. I want to give them… the childhood I couldn't have. I thought I didn't know how to give them the love and protection they deserve, because it was something I never had, but then I realised what I do know… I know what it's like to feel alone and scared, and I never want them to feel that."

He smiled softly. "And that's why you're such a wonderful mum."

Dusk was approaching its end on Kaleida; the only light came from the stars, and it danced along the perfect features of her face. "You look beautiful," tumbled from his lips before he could stop it, and despite everything that had happened to them between this and their last date he felt a light blush creeping into his cheeks.

River snorted softly, dipping her head. A stray curl fell into her eyes, and he found himself brushing it away with a sort of fondness he couldn't remember having for anyone except her.

"Are you sure about that?" she retorted cynically. "I've still got all the hormones messing me up. Do you know how long it took me to smooth my hair down?"

He eyed her mane of curls with a bemused smile. "This is smooth?"

His wife threw him a scowl. "_Yes_. You know about the Candyfloss Syndrome."

The Doctor stifled a giggle. "It's funny."

"It's not funny. And that wasn't even the worst of my worries. Finding a dress that didn't make me look like a manatee was quite a task. And the amount of make-up I had to put on to make me look less like I'd just returned from the dead…"

"You didn't have to do all of that. I've been around for the last year, remember, so I've seen you at your worst-" He cut himself off when her eyebrow arched, eyes widening in panic. "No- I- I didn't mean your worst, I mean… well, when _you_ thought you were at your worst. I didn't think you were. But I- I didn't mind when you'd had no sleep and you were all shout-y and crying and you hadn't brushed your hair for- I'm making it worse, aren't I?"

"Yes."

"Well- what I mean is… it doesn't matter to me. I know you like to be all…" He gestured at her, hair done up perfectly, lips painted in rouge and dangling diamond earrings matching perfectly with her flowing silk dress. "But… well… I still think you're beautiful when your hair is like candyfloss and you're wearing those huge pyjamas with the bears on them."

She cringed at the mere mention of them. "You weren't supposed to _see_ those…"

"I liked them. They were funny."

River glared at him half-heartedly. "You're lucky you're pretty, my dear."


End file.
